


In the Bleak Middwinter

by marquisdegayaf



Category: In the Heights - Miranda
Genre: Cuddling, M/M, Trans Male Character, Usnavi is in dr and Nina is a Stanford and Vanessa is downtown so sonnys kinda not doing great, Winter, implied depression, sonny is bad at doing functional human being things, trans character(s) of colour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-11
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8263657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquisdegayaf/pseuds/marquisdegayaf
Summary: 'It’s mid november and Sonny is feeling an overwhelming sense of bleakness.'
 
A Pete/Sonny Drabble because why not





	

It’s mid november and Sonny is feeling an overwhelming sense of bleakness. Winter is bleak. His school is bleak. The buzzing white lights above his head are bleak. The grey walls are bleak. The books he’s reading in english are bleak. The shitty school food is bleak.The white sky is bleak. The gooseflesh on his arms is bleak. The red and purple lines his binder has began leaving on his torso are bleak. The time he spends alone at home while Usnavi is fucking around in DR for the month is bleak. The sight of his phone, which he can’t be bothered to turn on, is bleak. The grey clouds and snowflakes falling which quickly turn to slush are overwhelmingly, all encompassing bleak. It’s Friday evening and Sonny’s still in school. Writing. Line after line of messy scrawl. He uses up a full notepad a week. He had a permanent callous on his finger from the weird way he holds his pen. It hurts. He tells himself it’s a price he has to pay for a 4.0 GPA, and keeps writing. The library is cold and bleak. The librarian left hours ago, she knows him well enough to trust him to lock up, and took the functionality of the radiator with her apparently. What’s the time? It’s dark out. When did it get dark? Sonny turns his phone onto check. Once the screen has loaded he’s bombarded with texts:

[9:01, from: gringo rey <3:] sonny  
[9:09, from: gringo rey <3:] babe  
[9:10, from: gringo rey <3:] baby  
[9:14, from: gringo rey <3:]s o n n y   
[9:16, from: gringo rey <3:] baby boy please pick up your phooooooone  
[9:25, from: gringo rey <3:] i s2g   
[9:25, from: gringo rey <3:] sonny  
[9:30, from: gringo rey <3:] where,, are,, you,,,,,,?  
[9:33, from: gringo rey <3:] ok if you don't reply in the next five mins imma panic and fuck shit up

Sonny checks the time. 9:35. Thank the lord.

[9:35, from: me:] suh  
[9:36, from: gringo rey <3:] HE LIVES  
[9:37, from: gringo rey <3:] SPEAK AGAIN, BRIGHT ANGEL  
[9:38, from: me:] don't quote shakespeare at me ever again  
[9:39, from: gringo rey <3:] wherefore art thou boi  
[9:39, from: me:] school  
[9:38, from: gringo rey <3:] Why Are You Like This  
[9:38, from: me:] home is cold rn  
[9:40, from: gringo rey <3:] so come over after school while usnavy away  
[9:40, from: me:] k  
[9:41, from: gringo rey <3:] come over now?  
[9:42, from: me:] if u come pick me up  
[9:45, from: gringo rey <3:] meet u in the parking lot at ten to  
[9:46, from: me:] love you  
[9:46, from: gringo rey <3:] love you most baby  
A little while later Sonny’s standing bracing himself against the cold in the parking lot as he watches Pete cycling through the snow on his stupid hippie bike. He calls it the hippie bike because it’s sprayed every colour imaginable and has one pastel blue wheel. In summer Sunny decorates it with daisies and pretty leaves, but right now it’s leafless. Sonny realises that even the bright crazy colours of the bike look fucking bleak. He sighs.

Pete pulls up next to Sonny and does a weird unnecessary grind with his wheels which sprays Sonny with melted snow. Sonny flips him off. Pete kisses the scowl off Sonny’s face. His lips are warm. Sonny’s heart races. They don’t say anything, but yet they somehow manage to make a decision to strap Sonny’s rucksack to the back of the bike and for Sonny to clamber up and sit on the space between the handlebars. Pete stars pedaling again. Sonny can feel Pete’s breath on his shoulder. Warm. Nice.They cycle through the lamp-lit barrio, going left then right then right then left. The cold air makes Sonny’s cheeks and nose and ears turn bright pink. He shuts his eyes and feels the wind whip against his shoulders. It’s still all a little on the bleak side.

They pull up outside Pete’s basement flat. Sonny hops down from the handlebars, grabs his rucksack and looks back at Pete, who’s locking up the bike. There are snowflakes on his eyelashes. He’s wearing black fingerless gloves and his winter trench coat. He half wants to tell Pete that he looks like a goon from a mafia movie and half wants to kiss him very hard. He opts to do neither. Pete takes his hand and they walk down the steps to Pete’s apartment together. Inside it’s beautifully warm, and not just in the temperature way. The walls are a warm shade of orange, the couches are a lovely warm maroon colour, the light from the lamps is a gold colour and the paintings and easels and sketchbooks strewn around the flat make the whole place feel the polar opposite of bleak. Sonny grins, drops Pete’s hand and runs into his bedroom. He rifles through Pete’s closet until he finds his favourite big yellow sweater of Pete’s, then promptly pulls off his damp pants and shirt so he’s standing in his socks, binder and boxers. Pete calls from the living room:  
“Remember to take your binder off, poco tigre!” Ugh. Binder. Forgot about that. Sonny slowly pulls the white stiff material up and over his head. Ow. How long was he wearing it for? Did he sleep in it? Did he sleep in his fucking binder like an idiot? Fuck. He isn’t doing a great job of proving that he can function with no Usnavi no Nina no Vanessa and no Abuela around to help him. He pulls the jumper over his head. The soft material feels like it’s gently kissing the callouses on his torso. He sighs happily and wanders back into the front room.

“Sweater thief.”  
“Actual thief.”   
“Rude.”  
“Accurate.”   
“You sound like your cousin.”  
“Rude.”  
“Accurate.” Pete is smirking like a total prick. Sonny is feeling so many things. A wave of tiredness sweeps over him and he rubs his eyes. When he opens them the smirk is gone and Pete is smiling softly up at him from where he’s sitting on the couch. Sonny blushes scarlet.  
“What’re you starin’ at?”  
“You.”  
“Por que?”  
“Your cheeks are all pink.” Sonny blushes more, which probably doesn’t help.  
“Are they?”  
“It’s cute.”  
“Fuck off.” Why oh why is that his immediate response. Pete laughs. His laugh is warm. Sonny flops down on the couch next to him and snuggles up. Pete pulls a blanket over them both. Sonny makes an appericative noise and presses a kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek. Pete kisses his forehead and turns on the TV. They watch a dumb telenovela for a while before Sonny starts dozing off with his head on Pete’s chest. Pete looks down and laughs quietly before whispering: “y’alright, baby?”  
“Mhm. Tired. Weird day.”  
“Weird?”  
“Bleak.” He feels bad admitting it. He thought he was having a good week.   
“Still?” Sonny nods. Pete sighs, hugs Sonny very close and mumbles ‘oh, love’ into his hair. He moves so he can curl around Sonny properly before pulling the blanket tighter around them both. Sonny's eyelids are so heavy. He's so tired. Pete is so warm.  
“Better now though. Not so bleak.”  
“That's great, kid.”   
“Give it the weekend. ‘be fine.”  
“Claro. Now get some sleep, darlin’.” Who is Sonny to refuse such an excellent proposal? He twists around and pecks Pete on the lips before snuggling back down and falling almost instantly into what may be the deepest sleep ever, happy to be safe and warm and with Pete. Not that bleak at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Do NOT bind for longer than eight hours ! Don't overwork yourself ! Do not do the dumb things my dumb son does in this fic !


End file.
